


The King of Fun

by Wolfsbride



Series: Joe Flacco/Justin Tucker [1]
Category: National Football League RPF
Genre: Baltimore Ravens, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 00:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3308420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsbride/pseuds/Wolfsbride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe's on a mission. Tucker helps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The King of Fun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CoyoteGrin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoyoteGrin/gifts).



> For CoyoteGrin since it's her birthday. Warning: This is purely a labour of love for my friend. I have no knowledge of football, after game parties, or even the Baltimore Ravens in general.

As Joe sat in front of his computer, he thought carefully about what he was about to do. He’d heard people say time and time again: _Do not Google yourself._ But really, what was the big deal? He was curious.

He typed _Joe Flacco_ into the search engine, not Google of course, because it was just too flashy, and waited for the results. There were the usual pages about his stats and bio, but as he scrolled, it seemed that most of the pages were articles that talked about how boring he was. 

Joe frowned. He wasn't boring was he? Sure he wasn't a party animal, but boring? He spied an article with his father’s name and clicked the link. As he read, the burn of betrayal seared across his mind. There in print was his father saying the same thing that all the other people had complained about. 

_Joe is dull. As dull as he is portrayed in the media, he’s that dull. He is dull._

To the New York Times no less! It hurt. He could ignore what other people said. But if his father was saying it, it must be true. 

Out of sheer masochism, he decided to see what was said about the rest of his team. Surely he wasn't the only dull person. As he searched he got more depressed. There was no one else as boring as he was, it seemed. 

Then he googled Justin and sat stunned as the internet gleefully informed him about how cute, adorable, sexy, funny, and wonderful Justin Tucker was. 

He thought about his father’s statement and felt himself getting angry. If he was boring, wasn't that his Dad’s fault? If he'd wanted a fun loving child, shouldn't he have raised him that way? Were his brothers equally as boring? 

That was it. He’d had enough. He was going to do something about this! Just as soon as he washed his dishes and vacuumed the house, because you know, cleanliness was important.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"You want me to do what?" Tucker stared at Joe like his team mate had lost his mind.

"I want you to teach me how to have fun," Joe muttered. He had waited patiently for Tucker to get changed after their practice, glad that Tucker usually dawdled, as it meant they were the only ones in the locker room.

Tucker stared some more and then he started to laugh. A great huge boisterous laugh. That went on and on.

He sounds like a goose, Joe thought meanly as he watched Tucker gasp and wheeze in between bouts of laughing. I mean honestly! Was it _that_ unusual a request? 

As Tucker continued to laugh, Joe's shoulders slumped and he sighed. He really should have known better. If his own _father_ thought he was hopeless... "Fine. Never mind. I'll just go. I've been meaning to reorganize my filing cabinets anyway."

As he turned away, Tucker called out.

"Hey! No! Wait!" Of course he was still giggling, so it came out all breathless and disjointed.

Joe turned back to see Tucker taking a deep breath, struggling to bring himself under control. 

After a few minutes, Tucker managed to calm down and he picked up his duffel and joined Joe. "I'm sorry, man. I'll help, I promise."

"Really?" Joe eyed Tucker suspiciously. After the multiple rounds of laughter, he was surprised by Tucker's change of heart. 

"Yeah, I swear." Tucker stuck out his right hand, pinky raised, but when Joe just looked at him in confusion, he sighed. "Okay, first things first. When someone does this to you." Here Tucker shook his pinky at Joe. "You do this." 

Grabbing Joe's right hand with his left, he folded down all of Joe's fingers except for the pinky and then hooked his pinky around Joe's and gave both their hands a firm shake. "See. Now it’s good. I can't back out cuz we're pinky sworn." 

Joe was staring at their joined hands. "But... That's certainly not legal in any state."

“Oh my God. So much work.” Tucker mumbled.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Since Tucker was the teacher, he got to choose the activity, and so he and Joe met by arrangement outside one of the local mini golf courses. Tucker paid for admission as well as their equipment and handed a club and ball to Joe, bouncing a little as he did so. “Okay. So I figured I’d start you off easy and miniature golf is _amazing_!” Then he started to explain to Joe how it worked.

Joe’s expression was one of doubt. He looked his club up and down, turned it this way and that and then peered at Tucker from under his baseball cap. “I don’t understand the point of this.”

Tucker rubbed the bridge of his nose. Baby steps he reminded himself. “The point is that it’s fun!”

“Who decides this? Chasing a ball around for the express purpose of knocking it into a tiny hole does not seem like fun.”

“Well, when you say it like _that_! Besides, you do recall what we do for a living, right?” In Tucker’s mind, there wasn't much difference and he _really_ did not want to get into a philosophical discussion about the nature of fun.

Joe cocked his head, brow furrowed. “But... That’s work. Not fun.”

Must not kill Joe. John would cry. Tucker thought to himself. “Look. We’re here; I’ve paid; we might as well go through. Give it a chance, okay? I mean you’re the one that wanted to do this.”

Joe nodded in agreement and followed Tucker through the gate.

~*~*~*~*~*~

At the first hole, Tucker demonstrated. “See, it’s not like regular golf with the big swing; you have to tap since you want to get your ball through the obstacle.”

After Tucker’s successful shot, Joe took his turn. 

“Uh. You kinda need to relax a bit, Joe.” Stepping next to Joe, Tucker took away his club, grabbed his right hand, and shook out his arm vigorously. He did the same to Joe’s left arm, and then gave him back his club. “Okay, now don’t tense up again. Just swing a little bit and tap.”

Joe followed Tucker’s instructions and watched as his ball rolled about three inches away from its starting point.

“Um. I think you can tap a little harder than that.”

Joe frowned.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Several hours later, they were still playing and Joe was still frowning. “I'm not very good at this.”

“Yeah.” Tucker agreed. They were only slightly halfway through the course due to the fact that it was taking Joe so long to sink his ball at each obstacle. Tucker had actually given up playing since he kept getting so far ahead and he didn't think it was fair to leave Joe behind. “But hey, it’s your first time! Practice makes perfect right?” 

He winced as Joe’s ball rolled under the Ferris wheel for the thousandth time. The man’s sense of timing was awful. He was beginning to have visions of being carted off by the course security at closing time as Joe, hapless though he was, had been aghast at the thought of just moving on after a few rounds of missed attempts. Apparently, that was cheating. He checked his watch. 

“Um. Joe? It’s getting kinda late. How about I putt the next few through?” For a moment, he thought Joe would refuse, but then Joe nodded, and stepped aside.

“Okay, the trick that works for me is to count how long it takes for the bottom cup to rotate. Once you get a feel for the speed of the thing, you can sorta judge when you need to tap your ball.” Tucker watched for a moment, and then gave Joe’s ball a gentle tap. The ball rolled forward and reached the wheel just as the cup rotated past the lip of the turf. It dropped into the cup and was carried up and over to the other side. Tucker let out a loud whoop, before glancing over at Joe. Joe was looking at him a bit oddly, but he didn't seem mad, so he sank the ball for that hole and they wandered on to the next. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

As Tucker had thought, it was pretty much near closing time before they’d managed to complete all eighteen holes. He returned their clubs and balls, and as they walked out to where their cars were parked, he nudged Joe with his elbow. “So? What did you think? Fun?” He turned, walking backwards slowly so he could look at Joe.

Joe wrinkled his nose. “I still don’t understand what makes it fun, but it was nice to spend time with you. I wouldn't mind doing it again.”

Tucker blinked and nearly fell over when he forgot to keep moving his feet. “So. You didn't like it?”

Joe looked thoughtful. “No. I don’t think so.”

“But you want to do it again?”

Joe shrugged. “Like you said, practice. Perhaps I’ll get better and then it’ll become fun. I just enjoyed talking to you. No one ever wants to hang out with me.”

“Oh.” Tucker thought about that. The team did tend to ditch Joe a lot. Or rather, Joe never wanted to do anything the other guys wanted to do. But they hadn't really made an effort either. “Yeah. Okay. We’ll do this again and other stuff too. We’ll find something fun that you like.” He held out his closed fist, and then sighed when he realized he needed to teach Joe how to fist bump as well. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

The two of them did end up going to miniature golf several more times that month and Joe even got better at it. It only took them half as long as it had the first time, though that was due more to Joe letting Tucker play his ball through the really difficult obstacles. Tucker decided it was time to add a new activity. 

He took Joe bowling. A simple task, he’d thought. Bowling was a lot less complicated than miniature golf. He’d neglected to take Joe’s fastidiousness into account.

“Other people wear these shoes!” 

Tucker sighed. Joe sounded so appalled. “They sanitize them, Joe. It’s okay.”

“But...” Joe was staring down at the size twelves in his hand as if he could see the germs crawling over the surface. 

“Fun, Joe.”

“Oh, very well.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Surprisingly, Joe’s first attempt at bowling was much better than his first attempt at miniature golf. He actually managed to get a strike at one point, and always knocked over the pins without rolling the ball into the gutter. He still lost against Tucker, but it wasn't a massacre. 

Again, as with the golf, they ended up spending most of the day at the alley and Tucker found himself just rambling about whatever came to mind. It was nice. In his experience, people eventually got tired of his energy, but Joe didn't seem to mind his exuberance, even if he didn't share in it.

Before they each took off to go their separate ways, Tucker quizzed Joe again. “So?”

“Well. It’s certainly easier than the golf.”

“But not fun, huh?”

Joe shrugged the shrug that Tucker was becoming so familiar with. “Sorry.”

Tucker slapped Joe on the back. “No worries. We’ll figure it out! You wanna do this again, next week, in the meantime?”

“Sure.” Joe said, with a grin.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Over the next few months, games and practices permitting, Tucker and Joe continued to get together. Golf and bowling shared time with other activities, most of which Joe still couldn't see the point of. Tucker discovered that Joe liked animals so they went on nature walks and to the zoo and the aquarium as well. 

And sure it wasn't a roller coaster of excitement, but seeing Joe’s awe and curiosity was a reward of its own. In fact, Tucker had gotten so used to hanging with Joe that he didn't really notice how much time they spent together, until some of his team mates corralled him in the locker room after a game. 

“Hey kid. You don’t like us any more, or something?”

Tucker paused, half way into his street clothes. “What?” He tugged his shirt the rest of the way on, peering at Dumervil in confusion. 

“It’s been ages since you've come out with us. What’s up, man?”

Someone bumped him from behind and Tucker turned his head to see Ngata smiling broadly at him. “Maybe he’s a got a girl, huh?”

Tucker laughed and shook his head. “Nah. I’ve been hanging out with Joe.”

Dumervil and Ngata shared a look. “ _Our_ Joe? Mr Joe _I’m so boring_ Flacco?” They spoke together, each of them looking at Tucker incredulously.

“Hey! He’s not that bad!” Tucker snapped. “Besides, I've been teaching him how to have fun.”

That made Ngata and Dumervil laugh, and Tucker felt ashamed when he remembered how he’d laughed at Joe too, all those months ago.

“Joe! Fun? Joe wouldn't know fun if it bit him on the ass.” The two of them continued to chuckle until they saw the stink eye Tucker was giving them. The laughter petered out. 

“You’re serious.” Dumervil’s brows rose in astonishment.

Tucker just nodded at the two of them.

“Huh.” Ngata rubbed his chin. “Well, the rest of us are going out to celebrate the win. You and Joe should come along since we hardly see either of you.”

“Yeah, since Joe’s the King of Fun, now. I mean, he’s got to be, with you as his mentor.” Dumervil smirked, and ruffled Tucker’s hair, like he was five instead of twenty five. 

Tucker batted Dumervil’s hand away. “The usual place?” Both his team mates nodded. “Okay, we’ll meet you there.”

As he watched them leave, Tucker bit his lip. He was 100% sure that a night club wasn't going to be Joe’s idea of fun, but now that he’d been reminded, he did miss the guys. And he missed dancing too. 

He could go without Joe. That would be the easiest thing, but somehow the thought of leaving Joe to sit at home alone, while he and the rest of his team went out made his chest hurt. A hand on his shoulder made him jump.

“Tucker? You alright?” 

Turning, he smiled at Joe. “Yeah. ‘M fine. Just thinking. The guys are going to go celebrate. They asked us to come along.” 

Joe’s expression turned from concern to wistfulness. “They asked you, I'm sure.”

Tucker found himself clenching his hands. He kinda wanted to kick everyone that made Joe feel like he was some sort of social pariah. And he was a damn good kicker. 

“Well, I'm asking you. Come with? Please?”

Joe perked up at that. “Sure.”

The two of them left the stadium together and Tucker called for a cab. As Joe always said, better safe, than sorry.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The night club was bright and noisy. Strobe lights flashed to the heavy beat of the music and the wait staff ran up and down the rows of tables trying to keep up with the requests for drinks. Tucker was barely in the door before he was bouncing to the rhythm. He’d forgotten how it felt to move his body this way. 

He spied his team at a huge round table and bumped shoulders with Joe. “Hey. There they are. Why don’t you go over and grab us a couple of seats while I get us something to drink?” 

He had to yell to make himself heard over the thump of the music but Joe nodded and Tucker watched him walk away. Going up to the bartender, he asked for a Bud, and then earned himself a look when he also asked for a glass of tap water. He hadn't managed to add drinking to Joe’s repertoire of fun and he wasn't sure he wanted to. One hangover between the two of them was probably more than enough.

“Gonna have to charge you for the water.” The bartender grumbled.

“Whatever, man.”

Paying for the drinks, he grabbed his beer and Joe’s water and headed over to sit with his team. He slid into the seat next to Joe, plunking the glass of water down in front of him.”

Joe beamed at him. “Thank you, Tucker.”

Tucker grinned and then scowled, when on his other side, Dumervil started to snicker. 

“This is the great Fun Meister? Ow! What the hell, Tucker?”

Tucker sipped his beer and pretended he hadn't just kicked his friend in the shin. Too bad he wasn't wearing his cleats.

~*~*~*~*~*~

As the evening passed, Tucker felt himself getting mellower and mellower. He was sticking to beer but alcohol was alcohol and he was working quite a buzz. Next to him, Joe was still fending off his team mates’ attempts to get him to drink something harder than water. 

They’d started out by ordering him different concoctions, laughing when Joe queried them about the odd names and even stranger colours. “But what makes this drink the representation of sex on the beach? That’s a rather personal, if uncomfortable, experience. I mean sand in unmentionable places, ew.” and “That drink is neon blue. Is it supposed to be like that? Is it safe?” They’d finally graduated to trying to entice him by telling him ‘war’ stories about their experiences at parties.

It was clear Joe was not impressed. “But why would I want to consume massive quantities of alcohol, stumble around and possibly get violently ill, pass out and then wake up with a splitting headache. Sometimes in unfamiliar places. That doesn't sound like much fun at all.”

Tucker glared at his friends. “Leave him alone. He doesn't have to drink if he doesn't want to.” Leaning into Joe, he muttered. “I'm gonna go dance.” His beer addled brain almost prompted him to ask Joe to join him but he slipped out of his seat and onto the dance floor before that could happen. 

He was only on the dance floor a few minutes before a couple of ladies joined him. He danced with them, never close enough to be accused of anything, though. He was here with Joe, after all, and he didn't really feel like picking anyone up anyway. He just wanted to dance. 

Back at the table, Joe was being interrogated. 

“So, what have you been up to with our Tucker. We haven’t seen him for months. Says he’s been teaching you to how to have fun?” Dumervil eyed Joe, clearly disbelieving.

“Oh yes. He’s a very good teacher.” Joe said, nodding like a bobble head doll. Then he stopped just as suddenly as he’d started. “I don’t think I’m a very good student though.” And he proceeded to bring his team mates up to date on all the things he and Tucker had been doing. 

When Tucker finally pulled himself away from the dance floor, he was flushed and sweaty. He collapsed into his seat, grabbed Joe’s glass of water – Tucker had finally just ordered a pitcher of water for Joe – and gulped it down. He plunked the glass back onto the table and looked up to see everyone looking at him. “Where’s Joe? And why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Bathroom.” Ngata answered. 

“And why the hell are you dating Joe?” Dumervil hissed. 

Tucker was glad he’d finished drinking his water because what?! “What the hell? I'm not dating Joe!”

“Golf, bowling, hiking, movies, dinners, _aquarium_ visits.” Dumervil ticked them off one by one on his fingers and ended with a look that said, well?

Tucker spluttered. “Those weren't dates! I was teaching him how to have fun!” 

“Umhm.” Dumervil nodded. “Of course. That’s why he’s totally the life of this party. Fine. Those weren't dates. What about the long walks by moonlight? That’s pretty incriminating.”

“Oh my God. It wasn't long walks by moonlight! We were...” Tucker stopped. What they had been doing was charting the waxing and the waning of the moon. It was one of the things Joe had wanted to do. 

So. Yes, there had been moonlight involved. And now that he thought about it, there had been quite a lot of walking involved as well. Talking about the moon and the tides and the history of the word lunatic and the various myths that were moon based. Joe was nothing if not through. 

Huh. From that point of view, he supposed it did look like he was dating Joe. Which. Wasn't a horrible thing. Joe was a nice guy. Kinda set in his ways but Tucker liked hanging out with him. It was nice to be able to as silly and crazy as he needed to be without being told: That’s enough, Tucker. Settle down, Tucker. Huh.

“Actually, we _weren't_ dating, but thanks. I think I'm going to make that a thing.”

Dumervil shook his head. “Man, you’re crazy. Why would you want to date, Joe, fake or otherwise. He’s so...” 

“Okay, that’s it. Just shut up. I'm sick of you guys harping on how boring Joe is. He’s not boring. He just likes different things than we do. Last I heard, it wasn't a crime. And sure, the things he likes are pretty obscure but it doesn't make him a bad person. He doesn't deserve to be left out. Joe’s our friend, but you wouldn't know it, the way you guys treat him.”

Tucker stood up, chair scraping loudly as he shoved it back. “You guys are ass holes.” He was too angry to stay. He was going to find Joe. 

“Tucker?”

Swinging around, Tucker felt his anger dissolve. “Hey there. Let’s get out of here, huh?”

Looking over Tucker’s shoulder, Joe took in his team mates faces. Not many of them were meeting his gaze. “Uh. Sure. I thought you were having fun, though.”

“I was. And then I wasn't. Come on, Joe.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

They took a cab to Joe’s house and if Joe was surprised when Tucker followed him inside, instead of taking the cab to his place, he didn't show it. He merely collected Tucker’s jacket and stored it with his own, and then moved through to the living room. Sitting on the couch, he watched Tucker pace. 

“Tucker?

“I'm sorry. I just... I'm so mad at them for talking about you like that.”

Joe didn't have to ask what it was they’d been saying about him. “Well, it is true, though.”

“No, it isn't! You’re not....” Tucker forced himself to stop moving. Wearing a hole in Joe’s carpet wasn't going to help anything. He moved to the couch and sat down next to Joe, twisting so that he could look at him. “Why the sudden interest in fun though? It never used to bother you before.” 

Joe looked down at his lap, at his hands which were fidgeting, fingers twisting around each other. “Uh. I googled myself.”

“Oh Joe.”

“Yeah. Anyway, there were so many articles about how awfully boring I was and then there was one with my father. An interview with the New York Times. They asked him about me. And he said I was dull. And I just...” Joe shrugged without looking up.

Tucker stared at Joe’s bowed head. He thought of his own father, who would be the first to tell Tucker how much he drove him crazy, but at least he wouldn't have blabbed it to millions of people. “And so, you decided you wanted to be more fun. But why me though?”

“Well. I googled the rest of the team. And no one was boring but they weren't fun either. And then I googled you.” Joe looked up and met Tucker’s gaze. “Everyone loves you. Because you’re fun.” 

Tucker shook his head. That was just so damn sad. He touched Joe’s arm. “You’re fun too, you know.”

Joe snorted. 

“You are! Well. At least I have fun with you.”

Joe looked at Tucker like he wasn't sure whether to believe him or not. “Really?”

Tucker nodded firmly.

“Oh.” Joe said quietly. “I thought. I thought it was because you pinky swore. You said you couldn't back out. So I thought; even if you hated it...”

“Nonono. I wouldn't do that to you. I mean, yeah. I did it cuz you asked me, but then I really liked hanging with you. Even if you didn't really like any of the things I chose for you.”

Joe smiled; bigger, and wider than Tucker had ever seen.

“Liked doing them with you. Liked watching you enjoy yourself. Still don’t see why they’re fun, but watching you have fun, is good enough.”

Tucker suddenly thought of a line from his favourite Christmas story. _The Grinch’s small heart grew three sizes that day._ That was exactly how he felt right now after hearing what Joe had just said. His heart felt too big for his chest. Like all his feelings would just break him wide open. He needed to do something. 

“Joe.” His voice was low and serious. “I'm going to kiss you right now if you don’t tell me no. Or punch me. Or something.” 

Joe’s eyes widened but that was his only reaction, so Tucker took his chance and ran with it. He leaned in, and brushed his mouth over Joe’s. When he wasn't pushed away, he pressed harder, nipping at Joe’s bottom lip and licking the tiny bite. 

When Joe’s mouth opened, Tucker dipped his tongue inside a little, not wanting to scare Joe; to be too pushy. He shivered when Joe’s tongue tentatively met his own, the two of them tangling and retreating. Several minutes passed in that fashion, languid kisses with hands tangled in each other’s shirts.

“Wow.” Joe said when they finally drew away from each other to breathe.

“Yeah?” Tucker couldn't keep the grin off his face.

“Yeah. Now _that’s_ something I would call fun!”

Tucker fell against Joe, laughter ringing brightly.


End file.
